Sunday Evening by Erik Carlsen

When you are
Scraping the
Red batter with
The melon baller
And your ingrown
Toenail gives you
A call back
Rest the potato
Skins in the oil
And watch the
Packers game
With your
Anatomy textbook
On the music stand

You have a towel
On your head like
Johnny Carson
When he asks
How many feet
Are in a yard

That’s a long question
With too little mention of
The snow on the field and
The rain against your window

Could you run through the street
For me
With your arms tucked tight
Like an angel’s?

Could you throw me
War and Peace and
Make it hurt
Like the first time?